Dansberg. Why do you shout?I shout because I die.
Icelin.I am your daughter.
Dansberg. Icelin.I am your daughter.Are you my daughter, ’Linde?
My daughter’s spirit?
Icelin. My daughter’s spirit?Yes.
Dansberg. Icelin. My daughter’s spirit?Yes.I know your voice!
(She leads him toward the pit.)
No! You are not my daughter. Your arm’s too thin!
Help, God! Make me a miracle now to save me,
Since man will not; or I will cry aloud